Author: alicewgold

I would like to state that I am a brunette, but now I am a mix of grey, white, brown, and blonde. I would also like to say that I am 150 pounds, but that would be a boldfaced lie. How about I say I am work in progress because that is the truth? A beautiful work in progress. I love the sound of my fingers tapping on the keyboard and my greatest hope is that something that I write will lift someone else on their journey.

Feeling naked at church.

My friend Jenna shared this great post this morning where a fellow Christian voiced his frustration with a big problem in the Christian realm. I like to call the problem, “let’s all talk about how awesome we are.” It can be rather annoying when the majority of people at church don’t admit out loud that they have weakness. Perhaps it’s actually more damaging than annoying. Check out this article about shame. And, yes, we are creating a society of shame if we aren’t willing to talk about weakness.

I hate to admit it but I belong to a church body that flourishes at shame – they don’t mean harm, they just don’t know any better. I don’t solely blame my church. Like so evident in The Scarlett Letter I think that religion and shame just naturally go together. It’s not that anyone is purposefully teaching everyone to shame each other or that the people are bad or hateful or judgmental. It’s just that they don’t know how to be vulnerable. It’s a lot easier to look down on other people for their problems then admitting our own.

I’ve been through hard trials in my life where I have just wished that I could find better support from my church body. That support is so hard to get when “perfect” people were all I had to choose from. I can’t tell you how many times I have said to myself, “What does that person possibly know about this… I can’t talk to them about it, they’ll avoid me like the plague.” Let’s face it, if we can’t get support at church, doesn’t that make church kind of pointless?

So, wouldn’t God want us to help each other? Wouldn’t he want everyone to feel like church is the best most loving place? That leaves only one question: how do we change a culture of shame?

We change it one vulnerable person at a time. I was that person this past Sunday. I had to speak in church. I believe what I said was inspired, but it was also extremely vulnerable. I told the people at church (whom I hardly know since I just moved here) about how I was going to write the prophet a letter and tell him to take my mission call to Utah and shove it. I told them about my struggle with weight. And *gasp* I told them about how I almost got divorced. I also told them how God helped me through all of those scenarios and more.

I wish more then anything that other people could do the same. I wish that those with same-gender attraction, alcoholism, porn addiction, and victims of sex abuse could use church as a safe place too, but honestly the things I talked about seemed shocking enough for now. That saddens me. There is so much suffering of which we are all unaware. How can we support each other?

Do you know what happened after I stripped down at the pulpit? Besides the fact that I wanted to throw up when I got done. Instead of running out of there and curling up in a ball in bed at home and hoping that I could somehow find the courage to go back some day, I pushed myself on to Sunday School. Guess what happened on my way? No less then twenty people came to me and told me what a beautiful job I did and that we need a lot more talks like that at church.

When we got home, my husband said the same thing happened to him. In fact, these were his exact words, “Alice, I had triple the amount of people tell me that you gave a wonderful talk, then I did when I spoke two weeks ago. It’s funny. The whole time you were talking I was just so worried about how you might embarrass me, what you might reveal….I couldn’t even feel the spirit of what you were saying….and then when all these people told me how they were touched and how they could relate, I realized something about myself. I am way too guarded.” (O.k. he didn’t use a run-on sentence) I gave him a kiss, told him I loved his talk, thanked him, and replied, “Don’t feel bad, it’s just the power of vulnerability.”

We all need vulnerability. Especially at church. How else will we understand that we aren’t the only ones who feel like we suck half the time? How else will we find the courage to keep trying? Yes, we could find those things solely with God, but it makes the journey a lot less lonely and a lot more hopeful when we can share the ups and downs with other mortal beings.

Less shame. More vulnerability. You can even keep your clothes on.

20 easy ways to be a good person

This morning I looked down at my dog and thought to myself, “We rescued you from eminent death at that shelter. Man, I am such a good person.”

This short little dialogue set off a chain reaction in my brain. I felt pretty amazing about being an advocate for the forgotten animals and wondered if there were other little reminders around me that could help me feel validated as a good person. After much thought and consideration, here are twenty reasons I decided I am a good person today.

More than likely, you are a good person too. Give yourself a pat on the back.

I don’t intentionally shame my children on facebook.
I haven’t tried to hit anyone with my car.
I share my food every time there is a food drive.
I kiss my husband every day.
I hold doors open for people.
I give kids (mine and other people’s) rides every day.
I try to focus when other people are talking.
I share my feelings.
I try to compliment everyone.
I say please and thank-you.
I don’t pick my nose and eat it.
I like my friends’ Facebook statuses and often also comment.
I frequent local businesses and gratefully spend the money my husband makes.
I laugh at people’s jokes.
I am a regular patron at the local library.
I admit my weaknesses.
I try not to enable people.
When other people are stupid, I try really hard to remember that I am often stupid too.
I eat fruits and vegetables.
I don’t live at the local bar.

If you have a problem with any of these things, I really really really hope it’s not 11 or 20, but even if you pick your nose and eat it while living at the local bar, I bet you are still a good person in at least 17 other ways. If you never leave the bar I can only give you 17 out of 20 because you probably aren’t very good at opening doors for people. The good news, however, is that you get extra credit for number 13 – frequenting local businesses.

Congratulations on being a good person. I am so glad that I know you.

Can you think of any other simple reasons why you are a good person?
Please do share.
By the end of the day,
we will all be feeling like this world can’t possibly survive without us.

The world needs all of us good people more then it wants to admit.

Positivity: pass it on. It will change the way you see everything.

Don’t listen to the lies, mom.

Dear moms,

I know you really like stuff like this. I do too.

I used to use messages like this to justify myself in the parts of me that I wasn’t mastering.

Carrying around extra weight
Not pursuing fulfilling hobbies
Not learning anything new
I could only have so much patience when dealing with kids all day every day.
Lack of organization/cleanliness that I wanted
Inability to serve others
My marriage wasn’t happy.

You name it, the kids were to blame.
Everything I did was for my kids and gosh dangit, they were lucky to have me.
Then one day, someone proposed a question to me:
If your kids grow up to be just like you, would you be proud of what you had taught them?

The answer was a resounding, “Hell, no. I’m not happy.”
That day I started to change.
Now, I live my life for the greatest amount of health and happiness that I can find
because that is what I want most for my children.

I suggest you do the same.
You can’t believe how good it feels.
You don’t even have to neglect your children,
or yourself,
or your God.

You will come to see that they all go hand in hand
towards your greatest health and happiness.

Love,
A changed mom.

Why can’t they drive?

Every phase of parenting has its own challenges. For me nothing has been as excruciating as the loneliness I felt with my first infant. My husband was working full-time and going to school full-time and was really only home to sleep. I had strong feelings about being home with my own baby and so I quit a job I loved to nurture my newborn baby. I missed my friends at work terribly and longed for some mental stimulation. I didn’t know that I had postpartum, but it didn’t help matters.

By far, my hardest parenting phase was the first one to five years. Babies and toddlers are very demanding. Changing diapers, picking up toys, cleaning up messes, and watching too many cartoons didn’t make me feel fulfilled as it does for some mothers.

So fast forward a good decade to where I am today. I have children who are fourteen, twelve, ten, and four, and I swear to you that this is the second hardest phase of parenting.

The drama isn’t to blame or even the demanding financial responsibilities although both of those just seem to grow along with the kids….the hardest part of this phase is that my kids are completely capable of driving, yet they can’t.

I have to say that I am very (and what I really mean is VERY) tempted to allow my kids to drive themselves illegally. Once you hear about last night, you may be offer to help with some new legislation.

Idaho is on to something. Maybe we all need to get our kids some tractors and 14-year-old limited farming licenses to drive so we can take our lives back?

Our oldest daughter, Abigail, (shown at the left in pink) has quite the full social calendar. It has become quite problematic for LeGrand and I who try to have a date one evening on the weekend. Our dates were getting interrupted and changed often to allow us to taxi her back and forth all over town. Several months ago, LG and I were feeling depleted and after discussing it at length we finally told Abigail that she was going to have to choose either Friday or Saturday night as we were reclaiming one night back for ourselves. She wasn’t happy, but she has complied.

All week long she has been planning to go to a local trampoline gym tonight, but then yesterday a friend invited her over for the evening. She really wanted to do both however we had a date carved out already and told her she would have to choose. She decided Saturday was more important. We told the kids (who hadn’t gotten out of the house all day due to my 6 hours of church service) that we would take them out for a cheap dinner and then we were heading out for our date. Then all hell broke loose.

As we were at Wienerschnitzel a friend of Sophia’s (our twelve-year-old) called and asked her if she wanted to go to a movie. LG and I had already purchased our movie tickets for 9:30 and so we told Sophia if she could get a ride to the movie and home afterward, we could take her over to her friend’s on our way out. We had to run the kids by the library (which was close to the hotdog place) and then were looking forward to getting out by ourselves for our much-needed recharge.

The problems started when we reached Kamryn’s house. It was 8:24 and their movie was supposed to start at 8:30. We offered to take Sophia and her friend to the movie. Kamryn’s parents weren’t home from their date yet and Kamryn’s little brother could handle the younger siblings for just a few minutes as they traveled home. We would still get on our date by 9, and Kamryn’s parents would bring them home.

When we got to the movie, it was sold out. Twelve-year-old’s don’t bother with details beforehand. Then we had to wait for the other friends Kamryn invited. They didn’t have a cell phone so we had to go into the theater to see if we missed them only to get called ten minutes later with the news that they had gone back home. It was a mess.

After a lot of phone calls and waiting on a bunch of girls to make new plans, all the girls ended up at our house. We barely got out the door on our date ten minutes before our show was starting. LeGrand and I were fully frustrated. We now had three kids at our house that we would need to take back home after our date. So much for date-night.

When we finally sat down in the theatre (during the previews, mind you) our combined sighs were audible. I turned to LG in the dark and gave him a kiss and said, “This date night is the best we’ve ever had.” And I meant it. Who knew that the level of enjoyment of a date is in direct proportion to how crazy the hours/days were leading up to the said date?

I guess we don’t want the kids to drive after all.

Evolving

I used to trap myself in the ideal that people shouldn’t change, and then I went to therapy. I now realize that people not only can change, but they should. Change has made me a much happier person.

As you know, last year I made the hard decision and retired this successful spot online. I moved on to a great little blog that was created for the purpose of supporting myself through some changes, specifically learning to love being a stay-at-home mom. I am proud of what I created here and what I created at InLoveatHome, but I can’t stop changing. I’m evolving all the time and I am sick of jumping ship when a subject gets uninteresting to me.

I came up with a solution….create a blog that allows for evolution. Make myself a place where I am not confined to writing about funny things or even things about the home. I wanted a place that would support me in my aspirations to write. My youngest is going to kindergarten this year, and I want to really dig in to my dream of writing a novel. I can’t shake the haunting feeling that I am not getting any younger, and I shouldn’t wait for a sunnier day.

So, with great risk of looking like a total fool I have created a space just for me. O.k it’s only 1/8th of a place so far. I still have a lot of work to do.

If you feel so inclined to follow me or support me in my dream, please know you are welcome to join me at my new blog. The title bears my name and I hope to stay there for, well, forever. See you there. alicewgold

To Be Continued..

Hello to my lovely readers (new and old).

I thought that this project would last longer, I really did, but 2014 is a year for bigger and better and broader subjects.

I don’t want to be confined to writing about home and healthiness, I want to write about everything.

If you like my voice or feel like giving my writing aspirations some support, please follow me over to my new space online. I will promise you one thing: I plan to stay at my new url that bears my name alicewgold for as long as I live. (I guess that also means I promise to never change my name.)

I will also promise you, that my writings about loving home will continue forever.

Thanks for your love and support. Everyone needs readers like you. Oh yeah, you will be happy to hear that they new blog is a work in progress. I have a lot of work to do with the formatting, but for now, I haven’t turned off the comments so you can engage in an actual conversation. I hope to keep it that way, but if you crazy anonymous people find me you could spoil the party for everyone. And yeah, that’s a threat.

Changing from the inside out.

You, like millions of other Americans have one big resolution this year: lose weight.

I’m here to tell you that if you don’t want to be unsuccessful like most of the other Americans will be this year, you’ve got to do something different. Lay off the Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, Slim-fast, South Beach, HCG, and all the others you’ve tried before. Don’t even go there. Don’t go buy the gym pass either. Quit wasting your money.

What makes me the expert? Thirty-five years of fat, that’s what. I am just like you. I’m a forty-year-old mother of four who has carried around excess weight since I can remember. I tried everything and even had short-term success with many of them, but the answer isn’t in what you are putting into your body or what you are doing with your body. The answer is in your heart.

How can you trust me? Well, you don’t have to trust me. I may not be trustworthy. I could go on a binge and gain every pound back tomorrow. And, yeah, I am pretty sure I could find a way to gain thirty pounds in just a day. Honestly I still have forty pounds to lose to be at optimal health but I know a big secret.

Let me tell you about the fifty pounds I have lost. I’ve kept it off for two years. I could credit my running or even my calorie counting and those two things do deserve a good portion of the credit, but the real secret lies within my heart. This secret is not one that you will find on any shelf of any store in America, or the world for that matter. You can’t buy the secret.

The secret is real change. Real heartfelt change.

Oh, you don’t want to sign up for that? Can’t say that I blame you. It’s not easy. In fact it’s a whole lot harder then filling up a Walmart buggy with the latest in weight-loss like the rest of the Americans. Guess what? It’s o.k. if you aren’t ready. It really is. Let’s revisit this whole thing next year. Actually, let’s just call January off limits, and revisit whenever you decide you are ready. Don’t worry, I will keep on loving you just the way you are.

But. But. There is always a but. (And a butt unfortunately.) You need to know one thing. It’s going to hurt to hear it so let me preface this with a big hug. Doesn’t that feel nice? Hold onto that feeling because here comes the slap in your face.

You don’t love yourself.

O.k. I am hearing you call me a liar. I deserve whatever you are going to dish out. The message-bearer is always the one at stake, but it’s a risk I want to take because someone has to tell you the truth. And that someone is going to feel really good when you finally get what you really want.

Let me be your Mike Sufferidini. That guy changed my life.

You see, my brother’s good friend, Mike, he called me out on Facebook. I can’t remember the context, but a few years back when I was negatively criticizing all my health-nut friends, he had the guts to say something like this:

“Alice, you sound like you have given up. You aren’t too old. It’s never too late.”

I was raging mad. If only I had a few dozen eggs to throw at his house. Or his head. Oh, forget, the eggs…I needed knives.

But. He was right. After a few weeks of pouting and raging and crying, I had an awakening.

What was my problem? Why was I trying to justify my weight? Why was I so envious of others? Why was I willing to lie to myself and tell myself I was really just a better mom then all those ladies who spent so much time running? I knew it was a lie. I knew I was just being fat and lazy.

What I didn’t know is the secret: I wasn’t fat and lazy. I was scared to death. I was broken. I was sad. I was a living vessel of conflict. My heart was the problem. No, not the clogged ventricles. The secret parts of my heart that carry all the emotions were the problem. The pain that I had hidden away there for all these years was the problem. I thought it was hidden well when I stuffed it into the secret compartments in the first place but the pain was seeping out through the cracks and causing me to over-eat and under-exercise.

So, when I look at you with your extra hundred pounds. I don’t have anything but love because I get it. I get where you are and I get where you need to be and I get how hard it is going to be for you to get there.

After you are done being mad, please believe me when I say that the secret is in changing your heart. You’ve got to get the pain out. You can’t let the seeps continue with their contamination because it is killing you.

If you purge it, weight-loss will come.

It’s in the heart. It’s different for everyone, but I promise you, when you are ready, you will find the pain that is holding you back. My only hope is that you won’t wait any longer. Not because it’s January, but because your change is ready and it’s beautiful.

What if you made resolutions every day?

Happy 2014 everyone.
One of my goals this year is to write every day.
I hope this will evolve into my awesome place.

As my followers know, this is my third blog. Three times is the charm. Oh, shoot, I just remembered it’s actually my 4th blog. Oh well, I’ve never had a normal experience in my life. Maybe four will be my charm.

Who watched the ball drop last night? Was anyone else disturbed by Jenny McCarthy and her hubby making out on camera like they were drunk teenagers? Gross. Even more disturbing though was Miley Cyrus standing all alone at midnight along with Ryan Seacrest and several other performers. The whole lonely parade of celebrity was just pathetically sad to me.

As I have been catching up on facebook this morning I have enjoyed reading everyone’s New Years greetings. Many have shared their resolutions. I wondered how many would actually have success. So many people want to change, but never really seem to find lasting success…myself included.

So, even though I still plan to make goals this year I’ve decided that every day I will make one resolution for myself and tackle my changing one day at time. I will keep you updated.

Today it’s only noon and I’ve already succeeded at my goal. Jump into a post and share it without getting this blog perfect first. I’m getting this published before heading out to the movie with the family.

It’s going to be an awesome year. I look forward to sharing the journey with you.

Leave me a comment and let me know what you’d like to see on this blog.

Can You Hear the Bells?

LG and I received a great Christmas present from his parents.
We were able to attend a Christmas concert last night
by one of our favorite gospel/bluegrass groups The Lower Lights.
I was touched by their retelling and performance of I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the lyrics after suffering two terrible Christmas seasons. First his wife was engulfed in flames and died from her burns, leaving Henry permanently injured as well. Second, Henry’s son, without Henry’s blessing, went to fight in the Civil War where he also received significant injuries to never be the same.

As Henry strolled down the street in despair the words of this poem came to him after hearing the church bells ringing. “If you haven’t had to endure a holiday season full of despair, then it’s only a matter of time,” the performer said last night. Then he added some sentiment that communicated the great privilege it can be to experience a Christmas where we are broken, humble, hurt, and down-trodden because it’s in those times that we can really see God’s hand in our life. Thus the last verse:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men

As I listened again to this inspired Christmas hymn tears ran down my cheeks. I felt the power of one person’s faith. I got thinking of my brother’s family. My nephew passed away last May and my brother was just talking about how hard it is to celebrate the holidays without Braxton. I then thought of my friend Rosie who will be stuck in a hospital tending after Hyrum, her critically-ill special needs son, for Christmas as she was for Thanksgiving. I thought of Aimee who has had terrible health problems and is waiting for her entrance into the Mayo Clinic. I thought of several of my friends who struggle with a lifetime of hurt from the abuse they received as children. I thought of so many children out there dealing with the antics of their bitter divorced parents. Then I was flooded with the memories of many heartbroken wives who have lost their marriages because of their husband’s addiction. The friends who are valiantly trying to provide for their children in the midst of job loss and an unstable economy also came to mind.

There is so much suffering. I thought, “How does God handle it all?”
The answer came, “I don’t handle it, you do.”

Wait, what? I can’t handle it! Then the answer came further,
“No, one person cannot handle it, but everyone can do something.”
And all those somethings mean everything.

I’ve heard the bells. I’ve heard them so many times. I can’t even begin to count. I’ve heard them for me. I’ve heard them for friends. I’ve heard them for family. I’ve heard them by being served and I’ve heard them by being the servant. I’ve heard them ringing for strangers. I’ve heard them in the drop of a few coins in the Salvation Army buckets. I’ve heard them in so so many surprise packages on my very own porch. I’ve heard them in a Santa Claus across the country buying a trampoline for kids he has never met. They are ringing strong all over the world. Take a minute to really look for them….listen carefully. I promise they are there.

At this time of year you can even hear them in advertising.

The bells are so beautiful.
My wish for each of you this year is the gift to hear.

This one is dedicated to my hubby who loves his Sarah McLachlan.

Scribbleville by Peter Holwitz

After reading the book Scribbleville with Caroline I knew it was one that we needed to review. It is a beautiful story that eloquently teaches children not to be afraid of people who are different.

This would be the ideal read for a children’s lesson on: